Authors: Heather Cullman
One by one those children who were able came forward, seeking an introduction. Seth treated each child as if he or she were a visiting member of the peerage, shaking or kissing their hand, and taking the time to ask each a simple, but personal question. He then went to the students who were too physically impaired to come forward and included them in the introductions.
By the time he was finished, every person in the room was completely taken with him. Especially Penelope. Seeing him chattering with and obviously enjoying the children whom most society men would barely look at, much less acknowledge, made her realize anew just how truly special he was.
As he rose from kneeling next to Herbert Brigman's caned wheelchair, where he had been admiring the boy's prized wooden horse, he lauded, “You've got wonderful students, Miss Parrish. You should be very proud of them.”
She didn't miss the way the children's faces lit up with pride at his acclaim. Smiling at her own pride in them, she said, “You're welcome to visit us anytime you like. Perhaps you'll come someday and spend time with the boys. Our children learn mostly by example, and our boys have had far too few male examples to follow. Especially excellent ones like yourself.”
One corner of Seth's mouth turned up in a wry half smile. “An excellent example, am I?” He slipped his hand back into his pocket and appeared to fidget with something. “I'd be glad to help if I were staying in town, but I've decided to leave for Denver first thing in the morning.”
Her heart gave a painful lurch at the news. “So soon? But you just got here.”
He shrugged. “I see no reason to stay any longer. Your brother has offered to handle my affairs here, and at this point there's nothing more to keep me.”
“But what of ⦠your house?” She almost blurted out “our House of Dreams,” but stopped herself in time. It wasn't “our” house, and it never would be if she didn't dare to believe in their love and ask him to marry her before morning.
The hand in his pocket gave a sharp jerk. “I'm thinking of selling it. I see now that it will never be the home I dreamed of.” He looked about to add something else when Marcella Stewart, who taught the girls basic homemaking skills on Friday mornings, came through the door, burdened by two oversize baskets.
“Penelope!” she exclaimed, her dark eyes lighting up with pleasure at the sight of the other woman. “I didn't expect to see you here today. Where's Alberta?”
As much as Penelope adored Marcella, she could have strangled her for her poor timing. Pasting on a strained smile, she replied. “Alberta had to see her husband off on business this afternoon, and I'm filling in for her. What brings you here?”
Marcella set the baskets by the door, straightening her stylish cherry Gypsy bonnet as she cast Seth an appreciative look. “Mr. Bryerton over at the Delaware House was kind enough to lend me china, silver, and linen for my table-setting lessons tomorrow. I was on my way home from picking it up and saw no reason not to drop it off now.” She gave Seth a dazzling smile as she approached him. “You're Mr. Tyler, aren't you? My brother, Freddy Stewart, introduced us at Davinia and Cyrus King's wedding last year.”
“Formerly Tyler, now Vanderlyn, and yes, I do remember you, Miss Stewart,” Seth replied, taking her proferred hand.
“You used to be Seth Tyler, but are now Seth Vanderlyn?” Marcella quizzed, visibly confused. “How very odd!” She looked at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to elaborate.
He shrugged one shoulder and gave her a charming smile. “Miss Parrish will have to fill you in on the details. I haven't the time now. I'm leaving town tomorrow morning and still have business to complete. So if you ladies will excuse me?” He kissed Marcella's hand, then turned to Penelope.
“Seth,” she whispered brokenly, her regretful gaze seeking his as he lifted her limp hand from her side. “I wish I could believe ⦠I want to, but ⦔ She shook her head helplessly.
“Don't,” he murmured. “I promised not to press you to marry me, and that promise included your not having to explain should you decide that your answer is no. However, if it eases your mind any, please know that I don't hate you for your refusal and that you may always count me among your friends.” His solemn face softened with tenderness as he reached up and cupped her cheek in his palm. “Be happy, sweet princess. That's all I ask of you. Just be happy.” With that he kissed her forehead, then turned and headed for the door.
Every fiber of her being cried out in agonized protest as she watched her dream walk away. And Seth Vanderlyn was her dream; she knew that beyond all doubt. He was her every hope, her desire, her heart and soul. He was her everything. Feeling that way, how could she stand there and simply let him go, when all she had to do to keep him by her side was utter two little words? Why was she so afraid to say them?
True. She knew there would be moments when their lives would be shadowed by their past sorrow. But wouldn't that sorrow be easier to bear if it were shared? And who better to share it with than Seth? Only he truly understood her grief; only he loved her enough to be her light and lead her from her darkness.
Marcella began to chatter on about something, but Penelope was deaf to her words, her heart and mind racing as she watched Seth pause at the door to shake hands with Emmett again, who'd tagged after him like an affectionate puppy.
As for her fear of being reminded of her guilt and failure every time she looked at him � If that were the case, surely she'd have felt at least a tinge of those emotions in those first few moments when she'd looked up and met his gaze? But she hadn't. All she'd experienced was exquisite pleasure at seeing him again.
So what was she afraid of?
What indeed?
“Seth,” she cried so breathlessly that she was certain he hadn't heard her. To her surprise, he glanced up from Emmett.
“Iâ” She took a couple of steps forward, her mouth working soundlessly as she tried to shove the words past the ball of emotion swelling in her throat.
He straightened up and stuck his hand back into his pocket, his eyes naked with longing as his gaze met hers from across the room. “Yes, Penelope?”
“I ⦠I ⦠do believe,” she finally managed to choke out. “Oh, Seth! I love you!” She rushed across the room, clutched his hand between both of hers, and begged, “Marry me!”
“Do you believe enough to marry me right now? At this very moment?” he asked, pulling her into his embrace.
She twined her arms around his neck to guide his lips down to hers. “I'd marry you this very second if we had a preacher!” she declared as he claimed his mouth with hers.
Thoroughly and with a hunger that left no doubt as to his love for her, he returned her kiss. So lost were they in their passion, that they probably would have continued on like that for a long while had it not been for the giggling chorus of “Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray!” rising around them.
Pulling his lips from hers, Seth grinned first at the cheering children, then at the smiling Marcella, who was leading them in their merriment.
“I hope you don't mind taking the class for the rest of the day, Miss Stewart,” he hollered over the revelry. “I intend to marry Miss Parrish before she has a chance to change her mind.”
With that announcement, he jammed his hat on his head and held out his arm to Penelope. “If we hurry, we can catch Judge Dorner and secure a special license before he leaves his chambers. We'll be married this very evening, if you don't mind.”
“Mind? I insist!” As she looped her arm through his, anxious to begin her life as Mrs. Seth Vanderlyn, her gaze was arrested by something caught on the cuff button of his jacket.
It was a ribbon, a frayed and rumpled black one.
“My lucky ribbon!” she exclaimed, plucking it from his cuff to stare at it in delighted wonder. “Wherever did you find it?”
His smile broadened. “It was in the pocket of my evening jacket. I've been carrying it with me for months now, rubbing it with my crossed fingers, wishing upon my lucky star, and begging lady luck for another chance to love you.”
“I told you it was lucky where we were concerned,” she declared with a giggle, standing on her tiptoes to plant another kiss on his curved lips. “All we had to do was believe.”
Author's Note
Since I couldn't resist the drama of having Penelope sing
Der Fliegende Holländer
(
The Flying Dutchman
) to Seth, her cursed Dutchman, I took the liberty of manipulating opera history a bit. Though the opera made its debut in Dresden on January 2, 1843, it wasn't performed in this country until over thirty years later. The first American performance took place at the Philadelphia Academy of Music on November 8, 1876, with Eugenia Pappenhiem singing the role of Senta.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1996 by Heather Cullman
Cover design Angela Goddard
ISBN: 978-1-5040-1001-6
This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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New York, NY 10014
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